A Good Hair Day
by fantasyaddict95
Summary: Hermione Granger has always been insecure about her hair. One day, her husband Ron Weasley decides to make her feel beautiful. Ron/Hermione slash. fluff-y, lots of Ron/Hermione cuteness.


If there was one thing Hermione Granger had always been self-conscious about, it was her hair. Always, she had thought of her long-ish brown hair as bushy, unmanageable, and plain. This insecurity she tried to work through. She'd read dozens of books throughout the years about spells and potions and charms that could change her hair. But nothing ever worked, it seemed. When Hermione meticulously straightened her hair or put it up prettily, charming it to stay still, it lasted for a little while, but, nevertheless, it would return to its usual, boring state. And when this would happen, Hermione sighed and went back to the books, forever searching for a solution.

Ron Weasley, Hermione's husband, loved her hair, and couldn't understand why she had such a problem with it. Then, one day, he awoke from a good night's sleep with an idea planted in his head, and he couldn't believe how perfect it was.

Grabbing a book off the nightstand, he nearly ran down the stairs of the flat he and Hermione shared. Soon enough, he found her in the kitchen. The smell of bacon cooking wafted up his nostrils and his stomach growled loudly. Unhindered, he continued light-footed to his wife, who was by the stove with her back to him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Guess who?" he breathed into her ear. Hermione laughed and turned around in his arms to face him.

"Good morning," she said, kissing him briefly. He detached his arms and went to sit at the table.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. He patted his stomach.

"Starving." He watched her switch off the stove, take the pan from the burner, and serve them two eggs each with a spatula. He always found it amusing how she insisted on cooking the Muggle way.

"Cooking is supposed to be from the _heart_, Ron," she would scoff, "How is it possibly from the heart if you just do it all by magic?" Hermione, carrying the plates to the table, laughed.

"You are always hungry, Ron. I could hear your stomach rumbling the second you walked in the room." He pulled a faux disappointed face.

"You mean I didn't surprise you before?" he pouted. She just laughed, leaned down and pecked him on the mouth.

After she sat down, Ron decided to bring up his plan.

"Hey Hermione," he said in between bites, "I was looking through some old books of yours and…" He paused to see if he had gotten her attention, and was pleased to see he had succeeded. Hermione stared at him quizzically, somewhat surprised that her husband was reading at all. She normally had to force him by gunpoint, figuratively of course, to even get him to touch a book. Her look encouraged Ron to continue.

"Yes, so I was reading," he looked up again, and she nodded, "And I came across something that might be of interest to you. I know how you've never liked your hair, and this book I was reading described this fool-proof potion that turns hair perfectly straight and shiny." Hermione nodded again, but with less interest. After all, she had tried almost every hair concoction out there, and she had little hope she would ever find one that worked. The thought of trying yet another potion nearly depressed her. She hesitated.

"Well, that was very considerate of you, honey," she said carefully, "But I'm not so sure about that." She rose from her chair and gathered the now empty dishes, expecting the subject to be dropped. Ron, however, had expected this reaction.

"Come on, Hermione, it'll be fun," he said, "There isn't anything to do today, and I can even help you out with it." She sighed.

"But, do you even know how to make the thing? Who knows if we have the right ingredients? I don't exactly have the energy to run to Diagon Alley today, Ron."

"It's no problem. I've made it already," he said, and he pulled a small corked bottle filled with a blue-ish liquid, "You just have to pour it on your hair, say an incantation, and bam!" Hermione smiled, despite herself. She hated to deny his enthusiasm.

"Fine," she said, "I give in. Just tell me what to do." He jumped up, happy at how well his plan was going, and took her hand. Leading her to a chair, he said:

"Great! It'll all work out fine, I promise. Just sit down and relax." Ron grabbed up from the table the book he'd brought. Hermione watched him confidently flip through to the right page, somewhat impressed.

"Okay… okay," he said, flipping, "Here it is. Now, lean your head back and stay still." She obeyed, and, consecutively heard the sound of a cork popping and then felt wetness on her head. Then, Ron started muttering under his breath, his wand in his hand. Suddenly, he stopped speaking, and around the same moment, Hermione felt the wetness evaporate.

"Now," Ron said, "Don't touch your hair. The potion takes a few moments to set." She nodded, wondering if it had worked. She waited a couple seconds and then said:

"Well… did anything happen? Is my hair different?" When Ron didn't respond, she spun around to him. He was grinning and staring at her. Hermione felt somewhat uncomfortable and felt herself flush.

"What's happened?" she asked, "Come on, tell me Ron." In response, he grabbed his wand out of his pocket and, with a grand wave of it, murmured "_Accio Mirror_". It came whizzing through the kitchen doorway, and Ron caught it easily. He hid it behind his back.

"I don't have to tell you, I'll show you," he said. Without another word, he pulled out the mirror and handed it to Hermione. She stared, full of apprehension and then… nothing. She looked the same as she had an hour ago, last week, last year. She felt a small stab of disappointment and then it was gone. She hadn't expected it to work, after all. But Ron had been so excited. She sighed.

"It didn't work. Oh well, I guess," she said, giving Ron a small smile. She expected him to become sad and moody at the failure of the potion, but instead he just kept smiling.

"I _knew _it wouldn't work, Hermione," he said. She looked puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"It was just colored water," Ron said.

"But then, what was the point of all that?" Hermione continued to stare at him, baffled.

"I wanted to prove a point," he said simply, as if that explained everything. It didn't, and Ron was surprised when she became irritated.

"And what point was that, Ron?" she scoffed, "That I will _never _have nice hair and I will never feel beautiful? Well, I know that already. I don't need you, of all people, to remind me." With that, she stood up abruptly and turned to leave the kitchen.

Ron, shocked at the sudden turn of events, got up just in time to run to her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. He saw the angry tears in her eyes.

Hermione tried to shove away from him, but his grip was too strong, and when she looked him in the eyes, she ceased struggling. Seeing that she would stay put, Ron loosened his hold on her, but he never broke eye-contact with her. His eyes were blazing.

"No, Hermione, that wasn't the point I was trying to make," he said strongly, and then more softly, "Not at all."

"Then, why did you do that? Do you not know how sensitive I- "

"I know. That's why I did it. I wanted to make you see…"

"See what?" He paused. And, holding her gaze like he could never look away, he said:

"Hermione Granger, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, or ever will meet. I wanted you to see, for once, what I see. I need you to see how much I care about you, how much I want you, how much I love you."

He smiled slightly, but the look in his eyes portrayed something much deeper. Hermione melted in them, her previous anger gone. Then, she rose to her tiptoes and kissed him.

She felt Ron's smile beneath her lips, and he responded with enthusiasm. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him as they kissed. Hermione felt like she was on top of the world.

After some time, they broke apart. Hermione leaned her head against Ron's shoulder, locked in his embrace. After they had both regained control of their breath, Ron leaned back from her, looking her in the face.

Gently, he reached up his hand and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. Smiling, he said to her:

"You don't have to change a thing."


End file.
